


Oath of the Hunt

by WrestleCrazyGamer



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Modern Era, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:13:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29043678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrestleCrazyGamer/pseuds/WrestleCrazyGamer
Summary: Juliette Yharnam Eldin IV is the last of the Yharnam Royal Family after the red moon rises again over Yharnam. In desperation, she seeks the Grand Cathedral to reforge the blood pact her ancestors made with the Great One known for hunting others of its kind long ago. Doing so awakens the plain doll from her slumber, and once more gives form to Verator the Hunter of Great Ones... the Great One of legend said to have ended the first Hunt ages ago before ascending to their current station. With his help, she seeks to stop those who would usurp the natural order by taking her rightful place on the throne and crushing her enemies.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Hunter of Great Ones

_ When the blood moon again rises in the sky, and beasts walk the streets, seek out the Yharnam Grand Cathedral. There you shall find a door with the crest of our clan. _

_ For therein lies your birthright, a blood pact to be made, and an oath to be kept. The dagger of our clan shall awaken our caretaker of old, and rebirth the Nightmare’s End. _

It stormed hard over the city as howls could be heard in the distance. A pale young woman with blonde hair put in a bun suddenly pushed open the doors of the grand cathedral and hurried to close them behind her, slamming down the wooden log in hopes of keeping out whatever was pursuing her. She wore black boots, a light blue long-sleeved denim dress, a black shawl that’d been torn up in the back, and a ruby bonnet. At her hip was a lantern. Dangling around her neck was a necklace bearing an insignia of the full moon with a black skull mark in the center. In her left hand was an ornate dagger with a blade in the shape of a serpent. Her bangs had come undone from the bonnet and hung over her face in a sloppy manner.

In a panic as something slammed into the doors, she broke into a sprint up the stairs. She looked and looked, and behind the altar at the far end she found a hidden door. The door she sought, as it bore a matching mark to her crest. She touched the two together and the door very slowly slid open. The woman then made her way down the stairs as quickly as she could. At the bottom of the stairs she found a chamber that contained a black goblet the size of a table. Lying at the goblet’s foot was the plain doll, lifeless.

“This has to be it… this… or the line of Eldin ends…” she whimpered, stepping closer to the goblet.

Stepping up the small steps to reach the lip of the goblet, she extended her wrist and readied the knife. Now that it came to it, she absolutely feared slitting her wrist to conduct the ritual. It was death by blood loss if it failed, or death by her pursuers.

“I am… I am Juliette Yharnam Eldin IV… and I call upon the blood pact for protection from the moon’s light.” she spoke.

She then took a deep breath before finally doing it. Tears streamed down her face as she forced herself to keep her arm hung out over the goblet so her blood could run into the basin. For a few moments, nothing happened… but then the candles in the room suddenly roared to life with a blue flame. The flames then raged to fill the goblet and cauterized her wrist wound, replacing it with a scar in the shape of the hunter’s mark. The plain doll then opened her eyes and began to stand, to Juliette’s shock.

“The pact has hereby been forged. Juliette Yharnam Eldin IV, you have been recognized as this one’s master. You shall henceforth be under the protection of the Great One known as Venator, Hunter of Great Ones.” the plain doll told her.

From the flames, a figure began to stand prompting Juliette to back away from the goblet. A tall broad-shouldered Hunter then stepped out from the flames. His clothes were ancient by Current Day Yharnam standards, definitely those of a hunter from the Age of Dreaming. In his left hand was a magnum grade four-shot revolver bearing a black wood handle with silver finish and a full damascus frame. In his right hand was a broadsword that looked, in a word, disgusting. Its handle was formed from a strange twisted bone, the guard was another deformed bone with pulsating flesh attached, and the blade was most horrible of all - a bloody red V-shaped blade attached to a solid slab of pulsating meat with eyes all over it, looking here there and everywhere as if the weapon were alive.

“Our family’s trump card… is a Great One…? He looks human…” Juliette stated, baffled.

“Venator is not like the others, and is by far the youngest Great One. He was born from a strong desire to save humanity, even if it meant giving up his humanity to do so. He will protect you from tonight onward.” she explained.

Venator then stepped past Juliette and made his way into the Grand Cathedral. There two werewolves leapt at him and he allowed both to each bite into his shoulders, splashing blood all over the floor around them. The Great One then twirled his gun before unleashing way more than four shots into one of the beasts, sending them flying across the cathedral hall. His gun barrel was smoking… and dripping with blood. The other werewolf then tried to rip his head off only for him to blast its lower jaw off, making it whimper and begin backing up. He then holstered his gun and aimed that arm at the wolf before snapping his fingers. Blades matching his sword then burst from the scattered blood stains and skewered the werewolf with a last whimper before it went limp. Drawing his gun again and walking toward the broken cathedral doors, the blood on the floor surged to him and entered his body to not just heal him but fix his clothes too.

“Where is he going…?” Juliette asked, hurrying after him.

“To hunt your pursuers, of course.” the plain doll giggled.

Several possessed townspeople then charged into the cathedral. Venator slashed some to pieces and blew the heads off of others. When a giant came charging in he parried the attack with a gunshot, blowing their hand away prompting a scream of agony. He then flicked his wrist making his sword mutate and become a monstrous beast arm with its blade making up horrible claws. He then proceeded to shove that arm through the giant’s body splashing blood everywhere that then began to be drunk up by the weapon. The giant’s body was little more than a husk when he finally threw it aside. Stepping outside he looked up at the moon and aimed with his gun.

“What an eyesore…” Venator huffed.

Blood then began rushing from his body into his gun making it also mutate and upgrade itself into a hand cannon with a rifle-esque barrel formed of bone and flesh. He then fired once, splashing blood about the place from the barrel, and the moon cracked all over. When it shattered, the entire world shook making Juliette unable to keep her footing. The pale blue moon was left behind in the sky and the howling had ceased.

“What did you do?” Juliette asked.

“I ceased the blood moon. No more beasts will be born on this night. Those who were born already will have to be dealt with…” he answered.

“Venator, I believe it is up to Lady Eldin what we do next.” the plain doll smiled.

“Ah… where are my manners?” he chuckled.

His sword and gun then returned to their normal shapes so he could holster them. The sword’s scabbard didn’t look any more pleasing than the blade did, being made entirely out of bone fragments with spinal cords making up the left and right seams. He then turned to her and knelt down, taking her hand.

“I am Venator, Hunter of Great Ones. Today forward I am your hunter, loyal and true. Your orders are law to me, and your life is my top priority.” he introduced himself formally.

“I would like to search my estate for survivors.” Juliette told him.

“As you wish.” he replied.

She then got a look at his eyes as he looked up at her. They were clearly not those of a human. They were blood red with skull-shaped pupils. Strangely, she found a sort of comfort in his gaze. It was as if she could sense through and through that he meant her no harm.

Juliette then led the way back to the Eldin Estate, which was in ruin due to being attacked. There were only corpses in the yard, making the place to search inside of the manor. Immediately upon entering a psychopathic man leapt at Juliette with a knife only to be impaled on Venator’s sword, causing blood to splatter on her body and face. The feeling had her paralyzed in place for a good two minutes before looking herself over in horror.

“Red looks good on you, mistress.” Venator chuckled, kicking the corpse off his weapon.

“Venator should take point, so as to protect you better.” the plain doll suggested.

“I-I suppose he should…” she nodded, trying to snap out of it.

They continued to explore the manor to find many mad men and beasts around. Corpses of her old servants could be found here and there, mostly torn to pieces. The ground floor up yielded no survivors, leaving only the cellar to check. When they descended the stairs a woman in hunter garb leapt at Venator with a transformed saw cleaver. This prompted him to parry and riposte with a powerful kick to her abdomen that sent her flying, crashing through wine barrels.

“Ingrid...? Ingrid is that you?!” Juliette gasped, stepping forward.

“Lady… Juliette…?” the huntress coughed as she tried to stand.

“Know her?” Venator asked as Juliette ran to help her up.

“Yes! She is Ingrid Winter, the head maid! I don’t know why she’s wearing this clothing, but it is her!” Juliette cried.

“Winter? Ah… so she is a relative of Kushala the Righteous, one of the hunters freed from the dream. She swore allegiance to the royal family of Yharnam did she?” Venator chuckled.

“My family has served them for generations… though I am not much of a hunter I am afraid. Beasts are a cut above my paygrade, though I received the training.” Ingrid nodded.

“Did anyone else live…?” Juliette asked her.

“I had everyone flee into the underground channel for safety. If anyone lived they would be in the secret chamber.” she replied.

“Lead the way.” Venator ordered.

“That doll… those clothes… my lady, you forged the blood pact?” Ingrid gasped.

“Yes. I was left no other choice.” Juliette nodded.

“Well… he’s more help against the beasts than I am. I cannot object.” she sighed.

Ingrid led them into the underground channel and surprisingly other than oversized rats there weren’t any psychos. No bodies to be seen either. In the very depths of the channel was a hidden door. Down the stairs from there led to a chamber where many servants were tending their injuries. They flinched at first when the door opened, but quickly breathed a sigh of relief when Ingrid and Juliette entered.

“Everyone, we’re safe now. I have forged the blood pact of my lineage. So I ask that you stand with me. The Hunter of Great Ones is our guardian tonight onwards.” Juliette told them.

“Good Hunter, what do you make of our new mistress?” the plain doll asked Verator.

“Young. Naive. Unaware of how much danger this entire city is truly in. Given time, perhaps she will come to understand.” he replied.

“What do you plan to do?” she asked.

“What the pact I forged so long ago with Lord Vayne Yharnam asked of me. Should my fellows who desire the end of humanity rear their ugly heads… show them no mercy.” he chuckled sinisterly.

Two weeks passed since that fateful night. Repairs to the estate have been progressing smoothly. A graveyard had been made for the fallen as well, honoring their service. During the night, none but Juliette had noticed Verator doing his job and slaughtering beasts who dared approach the gates. She just could not bring herself to sleep while their howls of agony filled the night. Ingrid was also joining him on these hunts, and always showed up the following day with bandages here and there on her body. It was growing Juliette’s concerns and anxiety, so during tea time she decided to confront her.

Just as usual, the plain doll had joined her for it and Verator was leaning against the wall with a watchful eye on the repair effort.

“Ingrid. I do not wish for you to continue participating in the hunt.” Juliette told her.

“My lady, it is my duty as your head maid and as the descendant of a hunter. I cannot obey this one order.” Ingrid smiled weakly, bowing respectfully.

“You’ll die if you do not allow those wounds to heal. Please, do not endanger your life further.” she pleaded.

“I apologize. To give my life to save yours is a just cause.” Ingrid told her.

“If I may, there is one way for her to serve her duty as a hunter while honoring our mistress’s hopes she will not die.” the pale doll spoke up.

She then presented a pitch black goblet from her shawl. It looked corroded from time, rusted, and looked to have blood stains on it. Laid in the cup itself were blood gems.

“She can awaken her true nature as a hunter… and forever bind herself to your bloodline, serving under Verator. Unlike other hunters who would go mad from the blood moon, she would be protected as a Child of Yharnam. Death will no longer be a concern for her. The price for this, of course, is her mortal soul.” the pale doll explained.

“A deal with the devil…?” Juliette gasped.

“A devil am I? Well, I suppose that isn’t too far off from what we Great Ones are with how some of us behave.” Verator laughed.

“I should have been more clear, dear mistress. Her soul will not go to Hell, but be traded to Verator for the strength to face the night. He may not possess forbidden knowledge, but he more than makes up for that in knowledge of how to eviscerate his enemies.” the plain doll explained, stifling a giggle.

“So my soul is all that it costs to uphold my oath to her family line?” Ingrid asked.

“Ingrid…? You would go that far…?” Juliette gasped.

“Just something to think about. After all, more hunters under your control is never a bad thing. You wish to take back your city, and to do that you will need more than just my power. I can only be in so many places at once.” Verator chuckled.

That night Juliette definitely could not sleep. The sounds of the hunt were steadily grinding away at her. She jumped a little when the plain doll climbed onto the bed with her. Juliette didn’t even hear her come in. She held Juliette as if she was a child and soothingly stroked her hair.

“Everything will be alright, mistress. The hunters will take care of everything. You and everyone else in the house are safe from harm.” she told her in a soft voice.

“Are we really…?” Juliette asked her, remembering how her mother would always reassure her like this when she was little.

“Yes. No one who wishes you harm will step a single foot through that gate. Even if they do, they will not get far. Verator is very thorough when he is on the hunt. Your ancestor slept many peaceful nights to the sounds of the hunt. He found them comforting, after some adjustment.” she replied.

“Would Ingrid truly be happy… as part of the hunt…?” Juliette questioned.

“She believes that her very purpose is to ensure that your family line lives on. Her entire life she was raised to believe that you take priority over everything. Her world revolves around you. Can you blame her for wanting to sacrifice everything for you?” the plain doll answered.

“I guess dad was right… I will need… to rethink my position… when I’m ruler...” she spoke before drifting to sleep in the doll’s embrace.

“Good night, mistress. Sweet dreams.” the doll giggled.

When morning came, Juliette took a long look at her wardrobe. She noticed a lot of her more formal outfits were white and blue. For some reason, seeing white or blue seemed to bother her. Tossing them from her closet, a single red suit left behind for her by her aunt remained. It had a gothic feel to it. When she first received it she only accepted it out of obligation. Now she was glad she hadn’t gotten rid of it.

“ _ Red looks good on you… _ ” Verator’s words echoed in her mind.

She put on the outfit and was relieved that it still fit. Donning black gloves with the outfit, she felt ready for the day. When she faced the others the striking color of her suit caught them off guard.

“You look gorgeous, mistress.” Verator spoke, kneeling to her.

“I have decided. Ingrid shall become a true hunter, and tonight under the light of the moon… I will be officially crowned as Queen of Yharnam. My mother and father gave themselves so that I can live on. To cower in fear of what goes bump in the night would dishonor that sacrifice.” she spoke in a commanding voice.

“We shall make ready at once.” Ingrid smiled.

“Glory to Yharnam.” Juliette spoke.

“Glory to Yharnam!” her servants cried.


	2. Coronation

_ >855 Years Ago… Yharnam, Hunter’s Graveyard _

A gathering of robed men and women had gathered before a lone stone throne among the graves where the plain doll rested. It stormed as a man with a full beard and mustache approached. On the left breast of his coat was the royal family’s emblem. He knelt before the doll and shakily took her hand.

“Hunter of Great Ones… I beseech you to heed our plea. A second hunt is in our midst, and I fear what hunters we have left lack the strength of will to continue fighting. They are aged and worn. Their children but babes still. Please grant to us your protection.” the man begged.

The silence in the rain was deafening to them. Some broke into tears, fearing they were forsaken. The man closed his eyes, beginning to shed tears himself, when the doll placed her other hand over his. When he gazed upon her face her eyes had opened, and a warm smile had come to her face.

“People of Yharnam. You seek an audience with him, and he would respond… but he has long since shed this form of existence. If you were to prepare a vessel for him to inhabit, however, he could again take tangible shape. I ask that you exhume the body of one who has experienced the hunt.” she told them.

The people were reluctant at first. To defile one’s eternal rest was the price of possible salvation? When the man who spoke with the plain doll was the first to plunge a shovel into grave soil, they overcame their inhibitions. Raising the steel casket out of the grave took some doing, as the pressure from the dirt had caused some instability. The moment they set the casket down before the doll, the rail on the left set busted off. The man then opened the casket and was immediately greeted by the smell of a cadaver, almost making him vomit. The body inside was that of a hunter who had fallen during the hunt ages ago. They were buried in traditional hunter harb, their Ludwig’s Holy Blade resting atop their body with their hands on the hilt.

“My lady, will this suffice…? Or is a more recent body required…?” he asked, still trying to keep his stomach.

“It is perfect.” she smiled warmly.

The plain doll then pulled a strange caryll rune from under her shawl and placed it upon the corpse’s face. At first it seemed to lay there as a piece of paper, but then it suddenly adhesed to it.

“Now you must forge a blood pact. This rune is named ‘Dream’, and upon receiving your blood shall forge an oath between your lineage and the Good Great One. When the pact is forged, look to the moon, state your name, and call his name… Verator.” the doll instructed, presenting the knife Juliette would one day use.

The man nervously took the knife from her and held his hand out over the rune. He put the blade to his palm and closed his eyes. He grit his teeth and shed a tear, dreading the pain this would bring him. With a final deep inhale, he slashed his palm splashing blood onto the rune. He opened his eyes and looked to the moon. His voice almost tried to leave him, but he forced it out.

“I am Vayne Tiberius Yharnam, King of Yharnam… I call upon you to forge a blood oath… VERATOOOOOOOOOOOR!!!!” he screamed.

The casket then erupted into the same blue flames that Juliette saw. Just as it did her, burned the Hunter’s Mark into his palm to seal his wound. To the people’s shock, the corpse then began to slowly pull itself from the casket and stand up. The clothes slowly began to fill in with a woman’s profile as long white hair extended out the back of the headwear. In the flames, countless eyes on the body opened up and began frantically looking around. The body then turned to Vayne with every single eye turning to gaze upon him. In the eye slit of the headwear, two skull-shaped eyes were visible staring at him with murderous intent.

“Hunter of Great Ones… I beseech you, protect us from a second coming of the hunt. My hunters, they do not have the strength to keep fighting. They were freed from the hunt by your work before, and do not wish to fight anymore.” the king begged Verator.

“You wish for a dream when a nightmare knocks on your door. The hunters here once used the old blood to fight the beasts, but would inevitably become beasts. I shall provide my protection under two conditions. The first… they shall continue their bloodlines, without fail, to continue serving your family line. The second… you shall never forget your oath to me, having every new ruler of Yharnam present to me a new body as tribute. Past this singular time, I care not if they have hunted or not.” Verator spoke in both a man and woman’s voice.

“I accept these terms. If I must arrange marriages for the hunters to secure their bloodlines then I will.” Vayne spoke, looking up to look Verator in the eyes.

Verator then snapped their fingers and a smaller version of the chalice he rose from in the present appeared in his other hand’s grasp. It had a deep crimson blood swirling within. He then extended it toward the man.

“Drink my blood from this, the Chalice of Oaths, and make our pact final. Should your line disregard their duty, all will not be lost… for this shall remain eternal, until your blood realizes their folly.” Verator ordered.

The king shakily took the cup from him, and after a deep breath downed it all. He dropped the chalice after and began coughing heavily, holding his throat. His mouth and throat felt like they were burning. The pain was so intense he nearly fainted. Looking up at Verator once more, the flames were beginning to go out, and a grin was visible on Verator’s new face. All eyes but the skulls vanished with the flames, leaving behind a fully fleshed body wearing the cadaver’s clothes.

“You are… a woman…?” he questioned.

“The form I take is mine to decide. You chose a woman’s body for me to inhabit, so I chose to honor that shape. I have worn both gender’s flesh, so it is but a trifle to me. If you desire it I can change to be a man if it pleases you so?” Verator replied, looking rather amused at the observation.

_ >Present Day, Coronation Night… Yharnam Castle Audience Hall _

The castle had been prepared all day for the ceremony. Juliette had it seen to that everything was perfect. The weather was predicted to be crystal clear that night as well, so the moon’s light will shine brilliantly over the throne. Townspeople had gathered and waited with baited breath for their prospective new queen. When the moon had risen high into the night sky and was nearing the perfect position, the organist began to play.

When Juliette entered the room she was dressed in true royal clothing bearing black and red colors. Yes, she chose not the queen’s white and gold gown, but the king’s red and black suit. The clothing her father wore. She walked down the line with an air of elegance and grace to her. When she arrived at the throne a priest waited with the crown and scepter. She knelt and the crown was placed upon her, and the scepter placed in her grasp. She then stood and faced her people.

“People of Yharnam, I give to you your new queen, Juliette Yharnam Eldin IV!” the priest announced, provoking cheers of joy from the people.

“Citizens of Yharnam. There are those who would seek another hunt in our city. Another nightmare disguised as a dream. I promise you here and now, I will seek them out and put an end to their plans. To that end, I shall christen my first true hunter.” Juliette announced to the people.

The organist then began again as Ingrid began to walk the aisle, dressed in full hunter garb with her saw cleaver by her side. Walking behind her were four servants that were acting as pallbearers for a beautifully crafted white and sapphire casket. When she reached Juliette she knelt down. The plain doll then handed Juliette the aged goblet she presented before. Verator then slashed his palm with a knife and allowed his blood to flow into the basin for a moment before his body healed the wound and repaired his glove. He and the doll then stood back as the servants lay the casket down and opened it to reveal the inside was jet black with purest white chrysanthemums laid in.

“Ingrid Winter. Heir Apparent to the Winter Bloodline. Head Maid to the Yharnam Royal Family. Your great ancestor was Kushala the Righteous, a hunter known for her technique with a saw cleaver. She once swore allegiance to the Healing Church, but soon saw what her so-called allies were claiming was righteous and just for what it truly was. At her wit’s end, questioning her reason to hunt, on the cusp of surrendering to the beast plague she once condemned others for bearing, a man extended his hand to lead her to greater purpose. That man was  _ my _ ancestor, King Logan fon Yharnam XII. He was a man who freely chose to accept the beast within, but not yield to it. He showed her the way to tomorrow when that nightmare was put to an end. She swore fealty to the Yharnam Crown on the spot, and her bloodline has served my family since. You now lay claim to her title and are hereby recognized as the head of your family. I hereby dub thee as Ingrid the Righteous, in your ancestor’s footsteps. Drink from this cup, and reawaken the hunter’s blood that sleeps within. Slumber, and awaken a hunter through to your bones.” Juliette spoke loudly so that the crowd could hear clearly.

Ingrid pulled her face mask down, and then gently took the cup from her hands. In a single go she downed the contents down her gullet. When she returned it to her, everything got very dizzy for her. Her entire body felt swelteringly hot. Her throat and mouth were burning, but her voice had completely left her so she could not speak a word. One minute after ingesting the blood, she lost consciousness. This was to be expected though, as the servants knew immediately to lay her to rest in the casket. They placed her weapon over her chest, and her hands overtop of that. After closing the casket, they began to carefully carry her from there as the organist played a funeral dirge.

She slept for a very long time after that. To a point Juliette began to get worried. She had a doctor check her every hour on the hour, and her pulse was completely fine. Ingrid was merely in a comatose state. She looked so serene laying in the casket of flowers. When the moon was again in the sky, it turned red, and that was when Ingrid awoke from her slumber. Rising from the casket, she had an entirely new air about her. She looked ready to take on the world.

“Just in time. Let’s begin our hunt here in the Royal District. Think you can survive on your own?” Verator chuckled.

“Perfectly.” Ingrid replied, putting her facemask up.

“Just so you know, I’ll know if you mess up. That and you’ll appear back here at your casket. Don’t go embarrassing yourself on your first night as a true hunter.” he told her.

He then tossed her a six-shot handgun with a sleek silver design and a red handle. The two then left the castle and split up to handle parts of the Royal District. Sure enough, Ingrid came across men in black cloaks bearing necklaces with odd tokens attached. Walking with them were beasts. She charged and carved into them like the vermin they were. More came and let out hounds on her, allowing her to skeet shoot them out of the air when they leapt at her. Carving her way forth, she saw more and more who would do her queen harm. Not far off she could hear Verator at work as well, seeing the occasional blood fountain into the air.

Some mad townspeople also came at her. She felt a little bad for the poor bastards, driven mad by the moon’s light, but she cut them down all the same. It was not long before her hunt took her to the great bridge leading down into Upper Yharnam Proper. Rather than descend further into the city, she ascended the area wall and tripped the switch that closes the gates leading there. That would sequester the remains of their prey into the Royal District with them.

Sliding back down the ladder a giant was glaring at her. She beckoned with a finger and it roared, charging. He leapt at her and she cut her dodge very close, aimed her gun right at his face, and blew his jaw clean off. While he was staggered she activated the hinge on her saw cleaver to enter trick mode, shoved it into his sternum, and with a single downward yank disemboweled him splashing his blood and guts all over the ground. Nodding in satisfaction, she continued back inwards to clean up stragglers she’d find here and there. Most were trying to break into the noble's houses. She couldn’t have that, so she gave the houses a new coat of paint as she went. The sound of their bones snapping and crunching from her blows was satisfying when she could barely manage a kill before.

When the moon reached its zenith she arrived in the Royal Plaza. There were four piles of corpses lying around the area. The blood spatters were fresh. The wounds weren’t Verator’s doing, however. Verator’s Viscera Blade was not capable of cutting this clean in either of its two forms. That had to mean they weren’t alone on this hunt.

“A fellow inheritor of titles, are ye…? Yet you hunt for an illegitimate crown…” a voice spoke.

A lady hunter could be seen standing on a lamp post nearby. She wore black boots with metal covers, black pants that fit to her slim body, a black long-sleeved shirt, a grey and white cowl covered in blood that flows in the wind, white gloves going to her elbows, a hood, and a skull mask to hide her face. In her right hand was what appeared to be a pair of immense hedge shears that’d been modified into a sword. She hopped down and already Ingrid could sense the hostile intent from her.

“Before I end your little hunt... Ye wouldn’t happen to have run inta a lass calling ‘erself ‘the Crow’ would ye? I’ve a mighty big bone ta pick wit’ her, disrespectin’ the dead and my master the way she does.” the mystery hunter asked.

“I’m afraid not… and if you think I’ll go down easily, you’re mistaken.” Ingrid huffed, readying for battle.

The two then locked in combat and the masked hunter found out that Ingrid is indeed very fierce. Having a gun also played to her advantage, blowing holes into her that she was forced to use blood vials to heal. That said, her own offense had Ingrid watching herself. Within her own combos she showed she can separate her weapon into dual blades or even use it exactly as it looks, as shears to try and take Ingrid’s head off.

After a bit the ladies began using the corpses lying around as shields to get hits on one another after the block. Their fighting only grew and grew in intensity. Blood from bother women and the corpses had painted the plaza red. In a last rush, the two ran each other through with their weapons.

“Tougher than ye look… but I’ve got the organs in your left…” the masked woman chuckled.

“You can have them… because I’ve got your spine.” Ingrid huffed, suddenly twisting her weapon producing a very visceral sound.

The woman spat up blood as Ingrid stepped back, showing she’d severed her body at the waistline. Her eyes rolled back and Ingrid dropped her weapon, letting her limp body hit the floor. She very shakily grabbed her weapon’s handles, and then ripped it from her body prompting a very loud agonized grunt from her. Verator then walked into the area, clapping.

“Well done, miss head maid. You handled yourself well.” he chuckled.

“I’m… going to bleed out…” Ingrid coughed, barely able to stand.

“In that case, I’ve a present…” he smirked, injecting her with a jet black blood vial making her gasp loudly as her large wound began coagulating and ceasing to bleed.

“Coagulant. The perfect thing for wounds that just don’t stop bleeding.” he told her, patting her back.

“T-Thanks…” she nodded.

“We’ll end the hunt here for the night.” Verator told her, aiming at and shooting the blood moon again to return the night to normal.

“Why don’t you do that each night…?” she asked him.

“Simple. Our enemies believe they hold the advantage when that moon rises into the sky. That makes them come in droves, lambs to the slaughter. If we can use that against them, lure out our enemy’s leaders… then we can crush them on our terms.” Verator explained.

“So what do we do about her body?” Ingrid asked.

He knelt by the hunter’s corpse and moved her clothing a bit to find a hunter’s mark upon her stomach along with other strange marks.

“A true hunter serving beneath another Great One. This won’t be the last we see of her. If we were to find her waking casket, however… we can leave her a little present.” he chuckled sinisterly.

The two set fire to the piles of bodies, and continued to light their fallen prey from that night ablaze so they wouldn’t stink up the entire district. Once they were finished, the early morning city sanitation forces came and began washing the blood from everything. By the time the first citizens awoke, the blood was completely cleaned away. It was like the hunt that night hadn’t happened at all.

Back in the castle Ingrid was able to recuperate by resting in her casket as if it were her true bed. By the time it was time to wake up to carry out her maid duties around the castle all of her injuries had completely sealed. While getting dressed she found a hunter’s mark between her breasts with odd markings she didn’t recognize forming a circle around it. Curious about them, she approached the plain doll as she helped some of the more inexperienced maid.

“Miss Doll, do you happen to know what the marks on my chest mean?” Ingrid asked her.

“They are special runes. They tell of who your master is and the oath you have sworn by ingesting his blood. The faction name adopted by Verator is ‘ _ The Children of Yharnam _ ’. You are its first proud member in a long time, and with time more shall join your ranks… be it by force or willingly. Your ancestor was a member once.” the doll explained.

“Kushala was? I truly am following in her footsteps then.” Ingrid mused.

“Indeed. I am in the process of mending her old hunter clothes, the garb that should rightfully be worn by the one with the title ‘ _ The Righteous _ ’.” the doll giggled.

Meanwhile on the second floor balcony overlooking the inner courtyard, Juliette was having tea while Verator reported what happened during the hunt. She’d had a beautiful crimson dress hand made for her. 

“Catacombs entrances…” Juliette spoke, looking annoyed.

“Yes. I took the liberty of blocking off the ones I could find in the Royal District. So they cannot move so freely through the underground now.” he told her.

“Good. Now about these hunter bloodlines you mentioned. Do you think we can rally them to our side?” Juliette asked.

“I will see to it, if that is what you wish. We will have to grow your repertoire of hunters eventually.” he answered.

“We can’t go far from the Royal District during a hunt night… and we do not know their frequency either.” Juliette spoke, closing her eyes to think.

“If I may offer my insight… there are families who know not of their heritage, and then there are those well aware of what they inherit who’ve taken to the hunt as their ancestors have. They have not chosen a hunter clan, however. I request permission to go for a walk to find one tonight, as when I shatter a blood moon it will be at least three days before it can be restored.” he suggested to her.

“Very well. If you cannot find any before dawn do not worry over it. All that matters to me is your safe return.” she smiled.

“Your concern is comforting, though altogether unnecessary for one such as myself.” he chuckled.

“Great Ones, too, can be killed even if only temporarily. So I worry for you as I do any of my servants.” Juliette told him.

“You bear a kind heart. Do not ever lose the ability to show it.” he replied in a soft tone of voice.


End file.
